


Someone Who Can Pull You Back

by BaseballbatofStydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, F/M, Friendship, Romance, emotional tether
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 02:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3919471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaseballbatofStydia/pseuds/BaseballbatofStydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Run, run. Run little baby Stiles.</p>
<p>After Allison Argent's death, Stiles is haunted still by the Nogitsune. Although it's gone, the pain that it caused is not. Stiles hears it's voice in his head every time he closes his eyes and he's beginning to break. All he's looking for is a distraction, something to take the pain away. And what he's found is the last thing he needs to help him.<br/>What he really needs is the one person who can pull him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone Who Can Pull You Back

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm new here and I hope you enjoy this fic!
> 
> This was originally published on stydia-fanfiction.tumblr.com and it answered this prompt: post nogitsune stiles isn’t coping too well with basically everything ever so he ends up going to parties hooking up with random people, drinking, and doing drugs and eventually ends up running away and doesn’t come back for a week and after that lydia makes it her life mission to help stiles cope with everything in a better way than blacking out every night and dodging his friends

_One more._  
Stiles lifted the small shot glass to his lips and threw it back.  
_Not quite, Stiles. I’m still here._  
He scrunched his face up and grabbed another, shooting it back even faster, relishing the cool burning sensation that hit the back of his throat. He needed to make it stop. He needed it all to stop. This was one of the few ways he’d found. It was the only thing to keep him busy when his dad worked late.  
_What if I come back for you Stiles? What if next time it’s Lydia? Or Scott? Can you handle knowing you killed another friend?_  
Hands shaking he reached for another. He knew the nogitsune wasn’t really there. He knew that it was his own imagination causing his voice in his head. He knew that he was torturing himself for Allison’s death, Aiden’s death, getting Coach shot and almost blowing up Chris, Derek, and his father, for successfully killing a deputy. But this was the only way to stop it.  
“Stiles!” He looked back as Newt, the boy throwing this party, walked to him. At least he thought it was Newt. Or was it Newt’s friend Ricky? They both had dark hair and he was drunk. It could be either one if he was being completely honest.  
“We’ve got the stuff!” Newt or Ricky held up a bottle of pills and Stiles felt a stupid grin slide onto his features.  
“Excellent.” He took the bottle and poured them into his hand.  
“Whoa, dude. Don’t want you OD’ing.” The other boy took them from his hand and Stiles opened his mouth to argue. What if he wanted to OD? What if he just wanted it to stop?  
“Here.” Newt or Ricky put a few in his hands, enough for a high, not too much. To Stiles it was too little. He downed it with another shot.  
“Shiles!”  
He turned at the sound of his name (or what was supposed to be his name) and smirked. “Hey there.”  
A girl stumbled over, a bottle of beer in her hand. To a person not completely wasted, it would have been pathetic to see. To Stiles, well, in that moment he didn’t think he’d ever seen anything sexier. Until an image of Lydia Martin laying on his bed, ankles crossed in the air, entered his mind and he shoved it away. Thoughts of something pure like Lydia Martin didn't belong here in this scene, this place for lost souls.  
He squinted at the girl. Had he met her? She knew his name (sort of). He came to the conclusion that he’d met her earlier at the party. It didn’t matter anyway. The less he knew her the better. She offered him her beer and he took a swig. He reached to hand it back and she grabbed his wrist instead. Their eyes met for a second and then they were kissing hungrily.  
A few months ago, Stiles would have hated the very idea of this. He would have thought someone who did drugs, drank, and hooked up with random girls nearly every weekend was someone to pity, look down on even. He never would have thought it would be him. But as his hand played with the hem of the girl’s shirt, he just didn’t care. He couldn’t care about anything other than making it stop.  
_Run, run,_ whispered that pesky voice that had taken the form of the Nogitsune. _Run, run, poor little Stiles._  
Stiles hated the way it said his name. His hand clenched a handful of the girl’s shirt and pulled her closer. A distraction. That’s what she was. He might as well enjoy it.

-~-~

“Stiles.”  
Stiles tore his gaze away from the paper he’d been drawing on (when did he start drawing?) and looked at Scott. “Yeah.”  
“Are you okay? You didn’t answer your phone last night.”  
Stiles averted his gaze back to his paper. “I went to bed early.”  
“Stiles.” Scott leaned across the space between their desks and whispered, “I can hear your heartbeat.” Stiles swallowed, staring at the paper determinedly. “You can tell me anything.”  
“Apparently not, Scott. You won’t even believe I went to bed early, will you?” He looked up; his tone was much sharper than he had expected it to be but he found that he surprisingly wasn’t too bothered by it.  
_You see, Stiles. Maybe we aren’t so different._  
The guilt started to set it then. He chewed on his lower lip, narrowing his eyes and scrunching his nose at his paper. All he’d “drawn” was some shading with a pencil. That was it. It was dark and depressing.  
Scott put a hand on his arm, making him jump and his heart begin thumping in his chest. “Stiles,” he said gently. “Please let me help.” Panic threatened to overwhelm him suddenly. He wasn’t sure where it had come from but suddenly he needed air, cool air.  
Scott knew.  
So what if Scott knew?  
But if Scott knew then what did that mean? Would he tell his dad? Would he try to stop him? But then he’d have nothing to make it stop.  
It didn’t matter if Scott knew. It didn’t matter if anyone knew. It was his life.  
But they couldn’t know.  
He felt like he was two different people. He felt like his head was going to explode.  
“Stiles, how much Adderall have you had?”  
That did it. Stiles jolted from his desk, almost knocking it over. His breathing picked up. He looked around the classroom. Coach was staring at him. “Got something to say, Stilinski?”  
_No, Coach,_ he willed himself to say. If he could just say it and sit down he’d be okay. He’d be okay. He’d be… No. He had to get out. He moved through the room quickly and burst from it.  
_How much Adderall have you had?_  
No. None. None at all. Liar. A lot. He was almost out. Oh, he was almost out. What was he going to do?  
_How much Adderall have you had?_  
His hands were shaking. He’d read once that 90% of Adderall abusers were binge drinkers. He thought of all the shots last night. How many were they? He couldn’t even ballpark it.  
_How much Adderall have you had?_  
Stiles burst into the bathroom and went to the sink, gripping it tightly. His breathing was coming out ragged and raw. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. In and out, Stiles, in and out. Adderall wasn’t as strong as some other drugs but it worked for him when he wasn’t partying, when he had to get through a normal day.  
_How much Adderall have you had?_  
He gritted his teeth, trying to remember how to breathe. There was a trick to it. There was a trick. Holding your breath. Holding your breath. He took a deep breath and felt his hands tighten on the sink. He needed more. He needed more.  
_How much Adderall have you had?_  
Too much. Too much. Too damn much! Stiles hung his head over the sink as he released his breath. He couldn’t hold it. He couldn’t do it. He fell to his knees, gasping.  
_How much Adderall have you had?_  
Make it stop. Got to make it stop. Shut it up. Please shut up. He needed the noise in his head to just stop. He wanted quiet; he wanted that buzzing to end. Desperation gripped him and he hit his head once, twice, three times on the wall by the sink.  
_How much Adderall have you had?_  
Not enough. Need more. Need more. Need more. Need more.  
The door opened and Scott came in. He fell to his knees beside Stiles and pulled him to him. Stiles slumped against his best friend and the next thing he knew ragged sobs were tearing from him violently.  
_How much Adderall have you had?_  
 _I’m so sorry, Scott._  
 _I killed her._  
 _I’m so sorry._

-~-~

Her phone rang once. Twice. Three times.  
“Where are you?” Lydia growled, throwing things off of her bed. There it was. Finally. She grabbed it and answered without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”  
“Lydia, I need you.” It was Scott.  
“It’s Stiles, isn’t it?”  
There was a long silence and she felt the entire floor drop out from under her. She was falling and she wasn’t going to stop. The world was spinning. No. “Yeah. We were supposed to watch a movie tonight and he didn’t show and he won’t answer the phone.”  
“Did you call his dad?”  
“No. I know where he is. I need you to come. He won’t come if it’s just me. I need you.”  
Lydia already had her purse in her hand by the time he finished his sentence. “Where do I meet you?”  
“I’m outside.”  
She was in Scott’s car within a minute of hanging up in her room. “What’s happening?” None of them knew too much about Stiles recently. In the three months since Allison had died, Stiles had been distant from them all. But he’d been especially distant from Lydia. He couldn’t look her in the eye and he was never alone with her. It wasn’t hard to tell that he blamed himself for Allison and Aiden. She suspected that he thought that she blamed him too.  
She had a feeling that Scott hadn’t told her everything. As much as she wanted to know it made sense. There were some secrets that as Stiles’s best friend would have to be ripped from him. For example, he still hadn’t told her what had happened in Coach’s class last week.  
“He’s at a party. I was with him when he got the invitation. He swore not to go. He promised me.” Scott tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Shit. Shit!” He hit it hard enough to honk the horn.  
“Scott!”  
“I don’t know how to help him!”  
“Start by telling me what you know.” She was shocked at how steady her voice was. Her heart was racing and her mind wouldn’t shut up.  
“He’s been abusing his Adderall. I don’t know how he’s been getting enough of it. He parties a lot. I don’t know how much but every so often he’ll blow me off or I can’t get a hold of him or his dad will call asking if he’s with me.”  
“Have you told his dad?”  
“No.”  
“Scott.”  
“I can’t tell him this Lydia!”  
“Someone has to! I will if you won’t! He has to know!”  
“Let’s try to talk to him tonight. If we can’t, we’ll do it.”  
“Fine.” She looked out the window. “Do you know what he takes at parties?”  
“No. I think we’re about to find out.” He pulled up outside a large house and shut off the car. “Ready?”  
“No.” She got out and shut the door behind her. She would never be ready for this. She hadn’t been ready to see her ex or whatever Aiden was fall to the ground but she was managing. She hadn’t been ready to mourn her best friend but she kept getting up in the morning. She certainly hadn’t been ready to lose Stiles but he had stopped talking to her and she felt like part of her heart had been removed. She hadn’t been ready for any of this. Not any of it. Now it was time to get Stiles back. That was the one thing that she was ready for. But was she ready to see him hurting like this? Probably not. But she would do it.  
She went inside with Scott, grimacing at the music that was so loud that the dishes on the cupboards shook. She took the lead, searching the crowd for any sign of Stiles. Her Stiles. Where was he? He had to be here. Please.  
“Scott.” Her voice was hoarse. When did her voice get hoarse? It didn’t matter. She’d found him. And she didn’t know how to handle it.  
Stiles was making out with a blonde girl in a corner, lips on her neck. He was shoving her against the wall as they danced to the music; his hand was on her thigh, dangerously close to being inside her skirt.  
Scott moved forward but Lydia couldn’t get her legs to move. Stiles. Her Stiles. She bit her lip and pushed the thought back. Not now. Not now. “Stiles!” Scott called. That’s when all hell broke loose.  
Stiles jolted into action and shoved the girl away from himself and at the wall, launching himself backwards so hard that he nearly fell over. “Ow! Stiles, what the hell?” the girl demanded. He ignored her, his chest moving up and down rapidly as he stared at something no one else could see. He scrambled backwards until he ran into a table, his breathing coming faster and faster. Lydia went to move but before she could, she was surprised yet again.  
“No! No! Just leave me alone! Leave me alone!” Stiles grabbed his head in his hands, falling to his knees. “You’re not real! Leave me alone!” People were staring now.  
Lydia couldn’t stand there anymore. She knelt beside him and put her hand on his arm. “Stiles-” Stiles moved instantly. His arm hit her, knocking her back. She stared at him. She knew he was protecting himself but all she wanted was to reach him. “Stiles,” she said softly.  
His head jerked her way and he stared at her for so long that she wasn’t even sure he was seeing her. But then he croaked her name. Just her name. And it broke her heart because he sounded so lost.  
“I’m here,” she whispered.  
“I…” He stared at his arm and looked up, horrified. “I knocked you over. It was you, not-” He was on his feet in a heartbeat. He looked back at the spot he had been staring at before he’d looked at Lydia. “You’re not real. You’ve never been… It’s all been me… I’m… _I’m_ dangerous…” He looked at Lydia. “I hurt you. I killed…” He looked like he was living a nightmare.  
“Stiles.” Scott sounded scared when he spoke. “Stiles, no-”  
But it was too late. Stiles bolted out the door before he could finish his sentence.  
“Stiles!” Lydia screamed. She raced after Scott in pursuit of their friend, mind reeling from everything that had just happened. Scott was already in the street when she got out. There was no Stiles in sight. “Scott!”  
“Shit!” Scott kicked a rock, reaching up to grab handfuls of his hair. “Stiles!” His yell was loud and desperate, as if he thought his friend would come back if he could only hear him.  
A boy with red hair came out of the house. “Hey, is Stiles okay?”  
Lydia spun around to face him, disgusted that she could actually smell the alcohol off of him. “What did you give him?” she demanded.  
“Some acid.” The boy blinked. “Jeff brought some so I offered it to Stiles.” He gave an unconcerned shrug. “I guess he had a bad trip.”  
“You should never have given him acid!” Lydia was close to hysterics. “He’s been a mess! You can’t do that to someone! What were you thinking? Bad trips happen all the time and now he’s- now he’s out there with nothing to help-”  
“Lydia.” Scott pulled her to him and she felt herself break down on him. Fear for Stiles was overwhelming. He was having a bad trip and alone in the middle of the night. They had to find him. Lydia took a shuddering breath and pulled away. “I’m fine.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“I have to be. We need to find him.”  
“I know.” Scott pulled out his keys. “It’s time to go to his dad.”

-~-~

It made no sense. Why was it this hard to find him? Why wasn’t he here? Lydia couldn’t make any sense of it. It had been one day since he’d run off and they still hadn’t found him. She wandered around his bedroom, taking in everything. Her eyes fell on his bed and she noticed something that made her heart ache.  
“His pillow,” said a voice behind her. She didn’t have to turn to know it was his father. “He left it.” A beat of silence followed by, “Why are you here?”  
Lydia slowly turned then, holding back tears of fear for him. “Because I’m scared too. All Scott will say is that we’ll find them but I…”  
“You’re afraid we won’t?”  
Lydia looked away. “I’m afraid he doesn’t want to be found. I wish he let me help him. I wish he would have said something or been honest with me when I asked if he was okay.”  
“He was afraid,” Sheriff said softly. Lydia looked at him again. “He felt guilty, Lydia. Guilty for the pain he feels he caused. He felt guilty about you especially. He never talked about it. He didn’t have to. His nightmares got pretty rough after it all happened. He’d wake up screaming…” He trailed off, looking like he thought he’d said too much.  
“How do you know he felt guilty about me?” she asked quietly.  
“Sometimes he’d say your name in his sleep,” he said after a long moment. Lydia closed her eyes. She could tell by his tone that saying her name was probably crying it out or something. Her heart felt like something was violently clutching it. “Hey... Lydia, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”  
“It’s not your fault. Don’t be. I asked.”  
“I wish I had known… About the Adderall or the parties or… I just wish I’d been able to tell.” It was his turn for his voice to crack.  
Lydia looked up. “It wasn’t your fault, Sheriff. I didn’t know either… I just… I knew something was wrong but… You couldn’t have known…” There was also the horrible truth that they had been blind to it because they hadn’t wanted to see it. But she couldn’t say that. Instead she hugged him. She felt herself getting dangerously close to breaking down as he hugged her back tightly. She searched for something to say, anything. But nothing came. Then, finally, it hit her. It was the simple truth. The only thing she really wanted to say. “I love him.”  
She felt his father’s arms tighten around her. “I know,” he whispered. That was all that he said but it was all that she needed.

-~-~

_Sunday_

“Mom, I don’t know if you’re listening. I wouldn’t blame you if you never listened to me again. I know I don’t deserve it. Mom, I hit her. I was seeing things and she... She touched me and I just… I pushed her away. I pushed her. Lydia. What is wrong with me? So many things. I am so messed up. I am so messed up… It hurts, Mom. All of it… There’s an ache in my chest that I don’t think will go away and I keep throwing up and I can’t stop the buzzing in my head… Mom, please… Please help me…”

_Monday_

“Mom, I don’t know if I can ever go back… Mom, I really messed up. I hurt everyone… I pushed them all away. Dad, Scott, Lydia… They tried so hard and I just… Dad would rush in after every single nightmare… I just couldn’t open up. Even on the nights when I couldn’t stop crying I just- I just couldn’t talk to him… I’d just cry… Some nights I’d choke out their names… Scott, Allison… Always Lydia. He never asked in the morning. He knew… He knew it was about what happened… I don’t know what I can do… I don’t think I can do anything…”

_Tuesday_

“Mom, I want to go home… But I can’t. I can’t go home. I’m too broken, too damaged. I’m alone. And maybe that’s how it should be. I’m losing my mind… I’m losing my mind all over again… It would have been better if it had just killed me, Mom… Then I couldn’t hurt anyone anymore… Maybe I should just do it.”

_Wednesday_

“Mom, I can’t give up. I want to but I can’t. I don’t know why… I just want it all to stop. I want the noise in my head to shut up and I want to remember how to breathe and I want to be okay again. I want to laugh. I miss laughing. Scott can make me laugh. I miss Scott, Mom… I’ve been distant and he’s been so worried… But I killed Allison. Because of me his first love died in his arms. And I wasn’t even there to pick up the pieces. It’s funny. I used to be there to pick up all the pieces. I helped. He needed me. Now, all I do is screw it up. It’s all I know how to do anymore… I hate myself so much… You must be so ashamed, Mom… I bet you’re crying up there. I hate that I’m the one making you cry… When I was little I wanted to grow up to be your protector. I wasn’t going to let you ever be sad. Now I’m the cause. And Dad. I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to be like Batman when I was little. Like Dad is. I wanted to be like Dad. But Dad saves lives. I just ruin them.”

_Thursday_

“Mom, it’s time. It’s time. I have to stop being selfish. I have to give her up. I have to let Lydia Martin go… I love her too much for this. She wanted a good guy, Mom. She didn’t want a bad guy. It’s pretty awful, isn’t it, that now that she decided she wanted a good guy I stopped being one. I guess we’re just not meant to be. We were never meant-” He swallowed, unable to finish. When he finally spoke, his voice was a broken whisper. “I was so sure. I thought I was strong. I really did. I didn’t think I was a hero but… I thought I was strong. Now I know. I’m not strong. I’m just a broken boy. I want to be strong, Mom. I want to be strong.”

_Friday_

“Mom, I’m lost. I don’t know who I am anymore. I really don’t and that scares the hell out of me… I don’t know who I am. And I don’t know anyone who can even help me find out. I’ve pushed them all away. Now they don’t know me either… No one knows who I am. I want to know who I am. I want to be proud of who I am. I want you to be proud, I want Dad to be proud, and Scott, and Derek… Lydia. I want her to be proud of me. Of the man I am. But I’m not a man. I’m just a boy. A boy who killed her best friend. Mom, it’s all my fault. But I want to cope. I want to be better. I want to be a good man. I want to find what I’ve lost. But I’m not even sure where I lost it. Mom, I just… I don’t know where to start…”

_Saturday_

A boy slowly approached the slab of stone, flowers in one hand, and lowered himself to his knees. “Mom, it’s me.” He swallowed. “I’m actually here with you this time. Because I don’t care if they find me anymore. I want them to. I’m going home. I’m going to fix this. I’m going to make you proud to call me your son. I’m going to learn who I am. I’m going to become a man and I’m going to learn to hold my head high.” He closed his eyes and hung his head, holding back tears. “I won’t be such a disappointment anymore. I’m going to make up for it. Mom, I’m never touching any of it again. I know I needed the Adderall but I’m just going to have to figure something out. I won’t touch it again. I won’t touch another drink or take another drug for the rest of my life. I swear. I’m clean from here on out. I’m going to deal with what I did with my head clear. I don’t know how. It was hard enough before. But I’m going to do it.” He fell quiet. “Mom, I love you a lot. Thank you for helping me through this last week. I couldn’t have made it by myself.” He slowly got to his feet, leaving the flowers by the stone. “Thank you for not giving up on me.” He looked at the stone for a long moment before nodding and slowly walking away.

-~-~

Lydia wasn’t sure what she was doing there. But she knew. She knew that she had to be here. She hadn’t called anyone. It was too similar a feeling to when she’d lead them to Eichen House. She’d been sure that Stiles was there, so sure, but he hadn’t been. She couldn’t do that again. But she had to know.  
So she walked through the graveyard. Then she stopped dead in her tracks. There was a boy walking away from a headstone, walking towards the road. Brown hair, head bent, dirty jeans, and a t-shirt. “Stiles!”  
He’d only just started to turn before she was running. She slammed into him and threw her arms around him. He slowly wrapped his arms around her and she could feel him bury his face in her neck. She found herself running her fingers through his hair and rubbing his back. He’d obviously lost some weight and she doubted he’d had much access to a shower but she didn’t care. He was home. She had to fight back tears of relief as she held him.  
“You came home,” she whispered.  
His arms tightened around her. “Yeah. I did. Lydia, I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked and it was once again evident of how broken he’d become.  
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s all okay.” He merely shook his head and pulled her closer. “Never do that again,” she croaked. “Ever.”  
“Okay.”  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Let’s get you to your dad, okay?”  
“Okay.” He let her take his hand and lead him to her car.

-~-~

Lydia sat up in her bed and rubbed her head. She wasn’t sure why she’d woken up at two in the morning but she couldn’t relax, couldn’t go back to sleep. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand and she grabbed it. Sheriff Stilinski. At two in the morning? Then she remembered. When she’d dropped Stiles off to him, she’d begged him to keep her in the loop if anything happened. Anything at all.  
She answered immediately, suddenly filled with the fear that Stiles had vanished again. “Is he okay?”  
“He’s… He’s all right.” Sheriff paused. “I’m sorry to call you so late, Lydia, but… He woke up and he…” He trailed off, struggling with words. “He needs you.”  
“I’ll be right there.” She scrawled a note to her mom before running to her car. She knew her mom would understand. Lydia had spent most of the last week with Stiles’s dad or Scott or someone looking for him. She’d even gone by herself. Her mom was the person who had held her while she’d cried that it wasn’t fair that she lost Allison and now Stiles was gone too. She never let her mom see her cry. She knew her mom understood the significance of that.  
She knocked on the door of the Stilinski house when she got there and it took the Sheriff less than a minute to open it. “I’m sorry to call so late,” he apologized quietly. “But you said-”  
“I meant it. Thank you.” She moved past him. “Upstairs?” Sheriff nodded and she ran up the stairs and into the bedroom. Stiles was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling (or were his eyes closed?). “Stiles?” she asked quietly.  
“My dad called you,” he said quietly.  
“Yeah…” She slowly came closer and realized she hadn’t changed out of her nightgown. She quickly decided it didn’t matter and knelt beside the bed. “What’s going on?”  
“Nothing. I’m fine.” His voice held no emotion, it was completely flat. Heart aching, Lydia moved to the foot of the bed.  
“Stiles… We want to hel-”  
“Don’t.” He rolled onto his side, away from her. “I just want to sleep.”  
“Can you?”  
He didn’t answer. She had two choices. She could go home and worry all night or she could jump into this with him and be his crutch. There was no option. He gave a small jerk of surprise and his eyes widened, staring at her.  
“Fine,” she whispered. She reached down and intertwined her fingers with his. “We don’t have to talk. But I’m not leaving you.”  
He closed his eyes, his face contorting with pain. Lydia silently ran her thumb over the top of his hand in small circles, not taking her eyes away from him. Finally, he gave her hand a small squeeze. She squeezed back, heart filling with relief. Relief at what exactly, she wasn’t sure. It could be several things. It could be relief at the sign of life from him, it could be just feeling him beside her again after that long, horrible week, or it could have been relief at not being turned away. Her gesture had been accepted.  
~-~-  
Lydia stayed every night for the next week with Stiles. She never got him to talk but when he would wake up screaming, she would wrap her arms around him and he would let her comfort him. The first night this had happened, he’d stared at her for a long moment and whispered, “When am I going to wake up? There’s no way you’re here…”  
“I’m here. I’m real. I’m not going anywhere, Stiles.” She’d run a hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “Sssh… I’m here… I’m with you…” And he’d hugged her to him so tightly and desperately that it broke her heart.  
The second time was a little easier. He’d still thought he was dreaming when he saw her but he believed her easier. By the fourth time, he’d seemed a little surprised but he didn’t question her. If she was being honest, it felt good knowing that he could trust that she was there for him.  
On the eighth night, things changed. When he woke up, she sat up with him and had just started to reach to him when he came to her. He hugged her to him as if his life depended on it and after several minutes he broke down. She ran her fingers through his hair soothingly and opened her mouth to speak. Before she could get the words out, he whispered, “I am so sorry, Lydia.”  
“For what?” she murmured.  
“Allison,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry.”  
She froze, unsure of how to respond. Finally, she whispered, “It’s not your fault, Stiles. It’s not. It’s like… It’s like if you had an evil twin. And that twin-”  
“Stuart,” he mumbled.  
“What?” Lydia looked at him, taken aback.  
“ Stuart. If I had a twin his name would be Stuart.”  
She stared at him for a couple of minutes, trying to recollect herself. “Okay,” she said finally. “Stuart. So Stuart goes on a killing spree. Would you blame yourself?”  
“No, but-”  
“Okay. Well the nogitsune wasn’t even in your body when it took control on the Oni, Stiles. It was in no way you.”  
He was quiet for a long time then whispered, “That doesn’t matter.”  
“Yes it does. You didn’t do it.” She gently ran her fingers through his hair. “Stiles?”  
“Mm?”  
“What got you started going to these parties?”  
He fell quiet again as he lay back down on his back and Lydia was afraid he was closing up again. But then he said quietly, “I ran into Caitlin. You know, the girl who was at Danny’s blacklight party?”  
“Yeah,” Lydia said. Her mind flashed back to seeing Stiles and Caitlin together at that party and the jealousy that she still felt when she thought about it. “I remember Caitlin.”  
He gave a small nod. “She said I looked like I could use an escape, invited me to a party. I knew it was stupid, Lyds. You know? I just knew I shouldn’t do it. I know what’s right and what’s wrong and… I knew it was just going to disappoint everyone. But then I told myself no one would find out. I didn’t even have to drink. And it all just snowballed so fast.”  
Lydia slowly lay on her side beside him. “It’s okay… It’s over.”  
“No it’s not. I want it all so bad. It’s all I think about sometimes. I want my Adderall. I want to take shots and I want to experiment with drugs and I just want to be able to forget again. I want that lifestyle. The lifestyle is the most addicting part, you know?”  
Lydia bit her lip, trying to decide what she could possibly say to make this better. Finally, she reached over and took one of his hands. She had to tell him now, just as the thought to do it had hit her, before she chickened out and changed her mind. “Stiles,” she whispered. “I’m going to tell you a secret, okay?”  
He looked at her and gave a small nod.  
“When we were in middle school… I didn’t realize how much things changed, or how much I hate preteens.”  
“Why are you-?”  
She shook her head. “I’m getting there. I didn’t know what it took to be on top. But I knew I wanted to be. I saw girls like Erica over at a lunch table alone every day and I knew I didn’t want that. I’d do anything not to do that. If you were like that then you didn’t have anyone. But I’d see the high school girls around town and they seemed like they had it all together. They gossiped about the boys begging to take them to dances and talking about other girls and clothes and all of it.” She fell quiet and wet her lips. “So… Do you remember Megan Cross?”  
“Yeah…”  
“She completely changed between sixth and seventh grade. I wasn’t sure I liked her much. But everyone else seemed to. She demanded respect. And so once. Just one time I laughed like I thought it was funny when she made fun of Erica at lunch. One time. And suddenly I was her friend… And because I was her friend, I was Jackson’s friend and Danny’s and all of them. And so then once, one time, I let her look in my closet. That led to her taking most of my clothes and deciding they were unsuitable and had to go. And that led to me asking my mom to help me buy big girl clothes that didn’t have any characters on them. And that led to me wearing mostly dresses and skirts and heals in high school, after Megan left. Then it took one comment to Isaac Lahey about his bike when he asked me out to make me unobtainable. And, finally, one time of acting like I didn’t know the answer when I did.”  
Stiles was staring at her with rapt attention and, amazingly, his eyes were filled with concern. “So… You’re saying that one time…” He trailed off.  
“I’m saying,” Lydia said quietly, letting her fingertips brush across his cheek. He shuddered. “I’m saying that it takes one time of something to realize you like the escape, you like the change, you like the power, you like anything. One time. It takes one time of anything to change your life completely. One time of wearing something different, one time trying a drink, one time talking to someone new,” she met his eyes, “one time being comforted by someone, one time being held by someone, one time kissing someone….”  
He was close, so close. One time kissing someone. All that was in her mind was that kiss in the locker room. The way he’d been so shocked but melted into her, the way that she had felt like a bolt of lightning had struck her down.  
“You’re right,” he whispered. “One time… Like one time of really seeing someone to just know that-” Thunder cracked and he stopped in the middle of his sentence, turning to look out the window. Lydia closed her eyes. He cleared his throat. “One time.”  
“One time,” she whispered. “Yeah.”  
“You didn’t have to tell me all that…”  
“You needed to hear it.”  
Stiles met her eyes again and his brown gaze was filled with so much warmth that she felt like if she never had to look away she’d never be cold again. “You think I can fix this?”  
“Stiles,” she murmured, taking one of his hands again. “I have never doubted that. I have never doubted you.”  
He gave a small nod. “Okay.”  
“Think you can sleep now?”  
“Yeah. Thanks, Lydia…”  
“You’re welcome…”  
-~-~  
The nightmares started to get better. Lydia’s mom was starting to wonder if she was ever going to sleep at home again. Lydia’s response was always the same. “Mom, he needs me.” And that felt good in a way. She wasn’t sure when she’d started to go to Stiles when she needed someone but she had. And it felt good to know that not only did he need her to but she was really helping him.  
Nine days after he’d opened up to her, her mom had a new response ready that took her by surprise. “I know he needs you. But when are you going to figure out that you need this too?”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lydia had had her car keys in her hand. After staying at Stiles’s, she usually came home to get clothes instead of taking them with her. She glanced at the clock. She was going to be late for school if she wasn’t careful.  
“I just haven’t ever seen you like this with a boy before.”  
“That’s ridiculous.” Lydia made to walk to the door but her mom’s words stopped her.  
“I think it’s good for you.”  
Lydia let herself freeze for a moment before walking out the door.  
~-~-

 

That evening when she walked into Stiles’s room, he spastically lurched from the chair at his desk and got to his feet. “I have a surprise for you.”  
“Do you?” She dropped her jacket and purse on the floor. “What is it?”  
He grinned and went to his dresser, draping an arm over it.  
She raised her eyebrows. “Your dresser? That’s a little odd, don’t you think?”  
He grinned. “It’s not the dresser.” He pulled out the top drawer, reviling that it was completely empty. “It’s a drawer. For you.” He looked suddenly nervous. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding meeting her eyes. “I just thought that, you know… I mean you’re here with me all the time and you always have to rush home in the morning so I thought that this way maybe you’d be more… more comfortable…” He swallowed. “This was a stupid idea wasn’t it? Oh, man, I’m sorry, Lyds.”  
Lydia stared at him, fighting back the sudden urge to cry. She glanced away, lips pursed, and let a small smile slide over her face. “Thanks, Stiles. That was really sweet…”  
“Wait, really?”  
“Yeah. Really. I appreciate it. You didn’t have to do that.”  
He gave a small shrug. His answer was short and simple but it was the only thing she would ever want to hear. “I’d do anything for you, Lyds…”  
“I know,” she said quietly and his whole face lit up.  
~-~-  
Two nights later he had a nightmare bad enough to throw him into hysterics when he woke up. She held him tightly as he cried after his dad left, whispering to him, wishing that she could make it easier for him. When he started calming down, she pulled him closer still.  
“You’re still here,” he croaked. “Why are you still here?”  
“I’m not going to leave you,” she whispered. “Not ever…”  
He looked up at her, tears still slipping down his face. He looked so lost that it hurt. “I hate that you have to see me like this…”  
“Why?” She rubbed his cheek with her thumb gently.  
He shook his head, pulling out of her arms. He pulled his arm over his face, trying to wipe the tears away, frustration obvious in his movements. “I’m sick of you seeing me cry.”  
“I think you look beautiful when you cry,” she breathed.  
Stiles froze, arm still over his eyes. Very slowly, he moved his arm away from his face and looked at her. His eyes were still holding tears back but there was more in them. There was confusion, gratitude, and complete adoration. He gave a small nod and pulled her back into his arms. Lydia wrapped her arms around him, listening to his heart through his shirt.  
She wasn’t sure when this happened, when she hit the point that she couldn’t be without Stiles Stilinski, but if he asked her to sleep at home tomorrow she knew she wouldn’t sleep. He was vital to her and being with him every time he woke up needing someone was vital to her. The idea that he needed her as much as she needed him was vital to her.  
He pulled away from her enough to look at her and slowly brushed some hair out of her face. “Lydia,” he whispered. She looked up at him and was faced with the realization that there was maybe two inches between them. And then her breath caught as she realized Stiles was leaning down. She slid her hand to the side of his face just before his lips were on hers.  
He was so gentle. Kisses with Aiden or Jackson were never like this. He was careful with her, as if he thought she might break or even vanish completely. She could feel how much he cared about her in that kiss and she knew that it was something she would never, could never get used to.  
As he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, she made herself open her eyes. Stiles opened his and they just looked at each other for a few moments. Finally, he whispered, “Thank you.”  
“For what?”  
“For bringing me back…”  
“I would never let you go…”  
He closed his eyes again and slid a hand behind her neck, his thumb making small circles against the skin. “I love you, Lydia.”  
And hearing those words had literally never felt so good.  
“I love you, Stiles.” She slipped her hand into one of his, determined never to let go. “I’d do anything for you…”  
“You sure?” A small smile was playing at his lips. “We’ve got quite an ordeal ahead… I’m still recovering…”  
“Positive. You’re not getting rid of me.”  
“Thank God.” He opened his eyes and kissed her again, just as soft, just as gentle, but more confidant.  
Stiles was going to be okay. She could feel it.  
-~-~

“Mom, one year ago I was hurting all the time and I was looking for an escape. I let everyone down, I lost myself, and I made you cry. I know I did. One year ago I sat right here and promised you that I was going to fix things. I haven’t touched any of it for a year. I’m doing it. I didn’t think I could. Not really. I thought I’d fail or that I wouldn’t even make myself try. I thought I’d end up dead in a ditch someday and you know what? I actually thought things would be better that way. I did. Not now though. And I, uh, I’m actually not alone this time. Mom, this is Lydia. She helped me. She brought me back. You know the craziest part? She loves me too, Mom. After all this time, it turns out she loves me. I got the girl.” He paused to give a smile to the woman with him. She squeezed his shoulder in return. He fell quiet for a few moments. “I really hope you can be proud of me again. I know I let you down before. But I did what I said I was going to do. I fixed things with everyone. I know who I am. I think I became a pretty good man in the end. I can hold my head high. I’m clean.” His voice cracked. “I love you a lot, Mom. I know you never gave up. Thank you. Thank you. I made it because of you. I love you. Always.” He hesitated and then leaned down and kissed the top of the gravestone before whispering, “Mom, I’m okay now. You can stop crying.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that's it. I'd love to hear your thoughts!


End file.
